Better living through tearing the fabric of the universe
by idontknow1122
Summary: From a physicist with an intense skepticism of the paranormal, into a witch with the power to bend space-time; the universe truly does enjoy irony. (SI/OC-ish)


**Disclaimer**: I do not own the rights to soul eater nor any other works by Atsushi Okubo

**Author's note**: After doing some thinking, I've decided I'm going to rewrite the other fic I made and work on this to gain a little more experience with creative writing.

This fic was inspired by the 'Isekai' genre which draws on a concept I find interesting; a person from the 'real' world is reincarnated into a world that they once thought was fictional.

The character I'm writing is an SI/OC-ish type character, I was re-watching 'Soul Eater' and wondered how a physicist would react to and/or use spatial magic (I like to imagine it involves portals/wormholes, among other crazy things someone could potentially do if they had such powers).

I'm mostly going to use the plotline of the books/manga over that of the anime.

* * *

Paul's POV

I slip my laptop into my backpack as I get ready to leave the lab.

"Heading home, in this weather?" my colleague Matt says, clacking away at the keyboard. "Be careful out there, the road's bound to be slippery."

Sure enough, I can see the rain pouring down outside the window.

I wave away his concerns. "Don't worry about me. I'm a great driver, a little rain can't cause any harm."

"You know what the studies say." Matt answers. "It's the ones with the most confidence in their skills that get into the most accidents."

"You can't trust those social 'scientists'," I scoff as I push the door open "The Sokal Squared fiasco proves my point"

As I walk through the hallway towards the parking bays and think back to the progress we made today, I smile in contentment.

I love my job. Crunching numbers and decoding the very fabric of our universe; is there anything more fulfilling than that?

"Here we go," I say when I arrive at my car, pressing the button to unlock the door.

As I slide into the driver's seat, I put my backpack in the passenger seat, clamp my phone in the holder, and search for my favourite podcast.

Ah, there It is; 'Our rational universe'. A whole hour of sane and reasonable people tearing through superstitious drivel with all the subtlety of a chainsaw.

Oh, it looks like today's podcast will be about magic and why it's basically a crock of fermented faeces.

I press the play button and drive out of the car park as the theme song plays.

My mind and body shifts into autopilot as routine takes hold, I laugh every once in a while as the hosts take turns making jabs at everything from magicians, to 'enchanted' items to faith healing and religion.

The rain continues falling getting heavier as time goes on, it's getting harder to see the road, but I know this route like the back of my hand, it should be fine.

I snicker as the hosts continue to trash talk the mere concept of magic, it's amazing that people still think magic is real; it's just one of many things we should've put to rest.

Then the ringtone goes off, it's Matt.

I swipe the answer slider on the screen "Go ahead"

"Hey Paul, we still on for movie night this Friday?" he asks

"You bet, what's on the list?" I ask

"Soul Eater, picking up from where we left off after episode 6"

"Haven't you finished the book and the anime twice at this point?" I ask rhetorically

"What can I say, it's one of my favourites" he laughs "and I wanted to introduce you to the fandom"

"Can't argue with that" I answer "and the fact you've got a thing for some snake lady probably helped"

"Her name's Medusa" Matt says "and yes, that is a factor"

"All right see you later, Matt" I reply as I prepare my finger to hang up

Before I can do that, I notice a pair of lights approaching me, my eyes widen as I realise that they're headlights.

I swerve to avoid them and the approaching car honks at me as it zooms by.

However, as I try to get my car back under control, it skids out of control.

"Crap" I exclaim as I wrestle with the steering wheel in a panic

"Paul, what's going on?" Matt asks, worried.

"Not now, Matt" I grit out as the car continues to skid.

Then I notice a bend on the road, less than 10 metres ahead as the car hurtles out of control.

I let out a flurry of curses as the car slams into the divider, crumpling the front bumper, shattering the windshield and activating the airbags.

Thankfully, the divider holds.

"Holy fuck that was close." I sigh in sheer relief

"Hey Paul, you all right there, buddy?" Matt asks

"Yeah" I breathe "it was close, but I'm okay"

"Thank the powers that be right?" Matt jokes

I smile and shake my head "I'd rather thank the municipal government; they're the ones who actually exist"

Not a second later, I hear bullhorns blaring out.

I swallow as I turn a horrified gaze towards an oncoming lorry, it's going too fast and carrying too much to stop in time, the lack of friction resulting from a wet road certainly isn't helping the situation any.

No matter what anyone does, inertia will ensure that it hits me.

This is it.

I don't want to die…

"Paul?" I hear Matt say.

The last thing I hear just before the lorry slams into my car.

There's a crunch of crumpling metal, a short sharp stab of pain everywhere, the agony of my skull getting crushed, then nothing.

* * *

Paul's POV

So this is it, the last silver of light before it all goes out forever.

Everyone and everything I knew and care about; gone.

It was so easy to talk about; the nothingness after death.

But now, I don't want to…end.

"Oh don't be so dramatic." a voice, one of indiscernible gender calls out.

What?

"Yes you're dead, but the ride isn't over, it never is." the voice continues

Oh I get it; my brain's just giving one last gasp of activity before it shuts down for good.

"Keep telling yourself that, Paul." the voice continues.

Interesting; those 'near-death experience' hucksters never said there'd be this much sass.

"Because this isn't 'near-death' this is actual 'zero vital signs, your remains are literally coating the road-death'." The voice replies in a bored tone

Damnit brain, can't you at least make my last few seconds comforting?

"Bit hard for it to do that; seeing as how the mush that used to be your brain is currently being picked through by first responders." the voice says in a tone that suggests an eye roll (if it had eyes to roll) "at the moment they think its strawberry jam, and one of them will vomit when he realises what it… and he just projectile vomited over the paste that used to be you"

Fuck you brain, if you're not going to make the last few seconds of existence I have left comforting, then maybe you should just do us both a favour and shut down.

I'm waiting.

Any minute now.

"It's been exactly 6 hours now, they're currently scraping your remains from the road with a shovel" the voice huffs "Look, the sooner you accept your death, the sooner you can get your memory scrubbed and begin life anew"

Nice try brain.

"You know what? Screw this, we've wasted enough time; get me his file so I can erase his memories already." the voice sighs as indistinct whispers emerge from the ether

What's going on?

"What do you mean his file's already been forwarded to the reincarnation department?" the voice demands. "It's supposed to go through the purification department first! This is the third incident this week!"

The whispers start again.

"This is why nobody trusts the bureaucratic process!" the voice rages "Not even the celestial one!"

The whispers sound nervous now.

"And now I have to explain shit this mortal too!?" the voice continues "Fine, but divine entity resources will hear about this"

Did the voice just threaten to complain to HR?

"Yes, yes I did." the voice sighs

This is getting weird.

"For you maybe, but for me it's just another load of paperwork" the voice grumbles "Long story short; you're getting reincarnated, just like every other shmuck who's gone through here"

Yeah right, the afterlife's a…

"Myth? I've heard that a thousand times before, mortal" the voice drawls "and you won't be the last."

Oh come on brain, you and I both know you're smarter than that.

"Okay, when you died you felt your skull being crushed like an egg, right?" the voice asks

Yes but what does that have anything to do with…

"How are you supposed to have any form of conscious thought?" the voice goes on "if the part of your brain responsible for said thought has been crushed like a grape in a winepress?"

Wait a minute.

"You felt your skull caving in and shattering"

Oh crap.

"Now you get it"

OH CRAP.

"Not so non-existent now are we?"

'We' as in plural?

"Oh yeah"

The gods are real.

"I've wasted enough time on you. Can you have an existential crisis _after_ you reincarnate so we can get this over with?" the voice tells me.

This can't be happening.

"Eh whatever, it's your next life not mine" the voice sighs "Your file's been forwarded to the reincarnation department before we could wipe your soul clean; so the good news is that you get to keep your memories and experiences"

All that time I spent trash talking the supernatural…

"Don't worry about it, nobody up here actually cares what you mortals think" the voice says "Okay, let's see what the reincarnation department's got in store for you"

I am so screwed.

"Not necessarily, but it will be a bit of a wild ride" the voice tells me as I hear the sound of a folder being flipped through "It seems as though you're getting thrown into a relatively stable reality; universe 26912 to be specific."

Wait, the string theory is correct?

"Yes, it is" the voice responds as I hear a page being turned "Oh look at this, it seems as though you're getting empowered this time around; with magic to be precise"

Magic exists too?

"In most universes, yes" the voice replies "but your soul might go through a few changes; specifically into a 'witch soul' but it should be fine"

Wait, I've heard about that, wasn't that a thing in 'Soul Eater'?

"It says here that magic users are tempted to insanity by their powers and are routinely hunted" the voice says with what might be a wince "glad I'm not you"

But Soul Eater is fictional.

"Infinite universes, infinite possibilities; for some universes your reality is a comedy show" the voice quips "Also, I hope you regret all those PMS jokes you made in life"

Oh no.

"Better learn to embrace your feminine side, Paul" the voice snickers "or will it be Pauline?"

Why me?

"All of this is random, today's just not your day" the voice says "though I think your death should've been an indication of that"

What else is there?

"Nothing, this is pretty much it, oh and I will wipe all memory of this meeting when you leave, can't have mortals finding out what the afterlife's really like" the voice finishes "good luck, mortal"

But I've got so many questi…

"Next!" the voice calls as I hear a buzzer.

Then everything goes white.

* * *

3rd person POV

Under the sweltering heat of a summer's midday in rural Tennessee sits a tent on the periphery of a travelling funfair.

Inside the tent a thin, pale, dark haired woman in her twenties or thirties, dressed in a black, brown, and white robe and a badger hat is seated opposite to a young man wearing sky blue gym clothes.

The woman holds out a bottle containing a sickly yellow fluid "Drink this and your strength shall grow by the day"

"Awesome" he grins as he takes hold of the bottle

"But I warn you; some costs may not be evident from the outset" she says

He snorts as he hands her a few banknotes. "Yeah, whatever lady; so long as it gives me a leg up during the competition"

"Another satisfied customer" she cackles to herself, counting the money while the man walks away.

Satisfied, she walks out of the tent towards her motorhome; a Winnebago Chieftain that was brand new back in 1986, when she got it from a scratch and win competition sponsored by a long defunct fast food joint.

Walking up the steps she stashes the money in a lockbox.

Another day another idiot paying for the rope that they will inevitably hang from.

She cannot help but smile to herself; many others of her kind prefer more overt ways of sowing chaos and destruction, she fancies a more subtle approach.

She would receive stories on the newspapers, television, radios, or even hearsay after days or months of waiting.

In Oakland, rumour spoke of a woman with a bottle of perfume (which had mysteriously/conveniently vanished after use) whose scent would make the man of her desires madly in love with her (whether he liked it or not), who someday found him unable to function without her presence.

In Tijuana, newspapers ran the story of a man who wished to be irresistible to members the opposite gender (even when they would normally reject his advances) who, after claiming to have quaffed a vial of strange smelling liquid (which investigators had found no trace of) suddenly found himself the prize in a increasingly dangerous contest for his affection which involved his female friends and colleauges.

She's heard of these two tales and countless others like them, and she is intimately aware of the details behind them. After all; it was her brews that served as the catalyst in almost all of these cases.

Why bother causing mayhem directly when so many flawed individuals existed out there who are all too glad to do the job for her? All they needed as a nudge in the right direction.

After all; she was a witch and like all witches she felt the pull of magic, she simply felt the need to express it in a way she would describe as 'sublime', though her peers argue this simply made her pretentious.

And to think; most humans who meet her all see her as a fraud, a huckster pretending to be a witch to fool the gullible. Even agents from the DWMA, to whom she's given fake palm readings (among other things) do not suspect her true nature and laugh off their divination sessions. (though to be fair; she is faking those sessions)

She is jolted from her reminiscing when she hears the buzz of the doorbell.

"Coming" she calls out as she walks over to the door.

What greets as she opens the door is one of the witch order's guards; regular humans who've been shanghaied into serving the order.

"Maud Murrell?" the guard asks, his face shadowed by the dog hat.

"Who's asking?"

The guard ignores her "You are required at the Witch's realm, it concerns your sister"

This gets Maud's attention; she hadn't talked to her sister for decades after they had a falling out back in the 1920s.

"This had better be good" she mutters

* * *

(Later)

"She did what?" Maud exclaims as she is met with news of her sister's demise.

The witch at her Sally's lab shows Maud another document "She ran afoul of one of her own experiments, we were unable to save her research, but we were able to collect the rest of her belongings"

"Shame, would've been nice to know what she was working on" Maud mutters as she examines a music box, though there was little love lost between her and her Sally, she wouldn't mind inheriting her sister's belongings.

"One more thing" the witch said as she prepares to leave "Your sister left something else behind besides her material possessions"

"And that is…" Maud says as, appraising a cubic zirconia ring

"Sally's child" the witch tells her as she picks up the documents "Your niece; her name's Agnes, she should be about 4 years of age now"

"Well, well; who knew sally had it in her?" Maud chuckles "who's the brat with now?"

"Nobody, just like your typical witch her father doesn't even know she exists" the witch responds "and you already know about Sally"

Maud nods, it is not unusual for a witch to know next to nothing about the man who sired her and fewer still are on speaking terms, let alone good terms with said men. (The use of love potions is a factor to this phenomenon)

Having a kid meant having someone to carry on the line, to ensure that witchkind endured one generation more. In more practical terms, it meant having an extra set of hands to boss around when the reach the right age.

"Who's goanna take the kid?" Maud asks as she weighs the benefits of taking the kid to as an assistant.

"Well, we were planning to send her over to the judge and let her decide but…" the witch pauses

"Would anybody object if I were to take her in?" Maud continues

"Well you are her aunt" The witch gives Maud a thoughtful look "so it shouldn't be a problem"

"This kid better be useful" Maud mutters "know anything about her?"

"Not much, but sally used to say she has a fondness for weasels" The witch notes, beckoning for Maud to follow her "and that the kid is an unusually fast learner"

"I see" Maud nods, so the brat might be useful sooner rather than later. "Anything else?"

"Her magic's still developing" the witch states as they walk through the hall "so it may take some time to figure out what kind of magic she'll have an affinity for"

"Hopefully it's something that's actually useful" Maud says as they approach the room

"Here's her room" The witch stops at the door "I've taken the liberty of giving her a potion to calm her down, so you don't need to worry about her crying for her mother or anything for a few days"

* * *

Maud sizes up the child dressed in brown robes and a weasel hat sitting on the bed in front of her, who returns her gaze with the same blank look anyone under the effects of a pacifying potion would have.

The child is a spitting image of Sally; who in turn looked identical to Maud even when they were kids.

"Agnes Murrell?" Maud asks

Agnes simply nods.

Maud sits beside her "You know what happened to your mother?"

Agnes nods.

"Will that be a problem?" Maud asks

Agnes glances at her "When the potion wears off, yes" her voice is flat and emotionless; a side effect of the potion

Maud grunts, true to the other woman's words; Agnes is a fast learner "Do you know who I am?"

"You, me, and mum all look alike" Agnes answers. "So you're a relative, most likely"

This makes Maud raise an eyebrow, she didn't think kids could put two and two together like that "Did Sally talk about me?"

"She never said your name, she just cussed about you a lot"

"Yup, that sounds like her"

Maud wraps a comforting hand around Agnes's shoulder "Well I think it's obvious now, but I'm Maud, your mother's sister a.k.a.; your aunt"

Agnes scoots closer to her "what happens now?"

"Either one of two things; you can let the judge assign you to a guardian, and trust me; that's not something you want to risk." Maud tells her "Or you can come with me and be my assistant; help me with my experiments and my chores and learn from me"

Agnes doesn't even hesitate "I'm sticking with you"

"Smart move, child" Maud replies as she stands up "We've got packing to do"

* * *

Agnes's POV

4 years I've been thrown into this universe (against my will no less) and nothing makes sense; and to top it off; mum's gone, torn apart by some abomination she was working on.

I found out about that when I noticed a crowd of people around her lab, then I saw her remains.

Next thing I know I'm being force fed a bottle of slop and now I can hardly feel any emotions at all; everything seems dull and muted.

Bad enough I lost my whole (past) life 4 years ago; my dog, my house, my friends and family, my job: gone. Today I lose the one person in this universe I bonded with, and I can't even mourn her.

I just hope whatever force it was that got me stuck here puts her in a better universe.

"So, child" Aunt Maud starts as she shoves my clothes in a bag "What was Sally like with you"

"She was loving and did everything she could to raise me properly" I answered mechanically. "She was there for me when I needed her and I was happy living with her"

I wanted to snap at her, but this potion wouldn't let me. I should feel angry, and devastated at mum's death, heck I want to be angry; but at the moment I can barely even remember what anger feels like.

Perhaps it was an inflection in my voice, or perhaps it was intuition on Aunt Maud's part, but she turns and looks at me with pity.

"Agnes, for what it's worth; I'm sorry for your loss, I truly am" Aunt Maud sighs "Sally and I parted on bad terms, but I know she was a great mother"

"That she was" I answer without a hint of emotion.

"Look, Agnes as soon as that potion wears off I'll spend a day or two grieving with you" She offers as she lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder "Heck I've got some junk you can smash if you want to vent, or you can cry on my robe if you need to"

I would like that actually, I would like that a lot.

I look up to her and nod "that would be nice; thank you"

"Don't mention it child" she says as we resume packing.

* * *

**Author's note: **that's it for this chapter and thank you for reading.


End file.
